To the brave non conforming curl of hair on that woman’s cheek To the grace of that man’s rhythmic movement as he hurries down the street To the pure glorious delight with which that girl greets her friend To the faraway gaze of that child’s eyes To the faces that girl makes when she thinks her mother can’t see To the lip being bitten To the swirl of the skirt To the way that girl holds her baby sister To the way those boys jump to touch the branch above them To the slow careful steps the old man takes To the disapproving shake of the old woman’s head To the toddler jumping across every other tile